Read Online Billionaire With a Twist by Lila Monroe - Free Book Online

appropriate, and yet somehow every time we
talked, I just got more and more sarcastic. But it was either that or
lust-struck declarations of wanting to be swept away in his arms, and
I definitely couldn’t let those out. Unprofessional as my snark
might be, at least it kept a tiny part of my dignity intact.
    A tiny, tiny bit.
    Meanwhile, Hunter’s shoulders had
tensed. “Who says teenage girls are the only ones who get to
have a snack stash?”
    His voice was trying to be light, but
there was a tension underneath.
    Maybe I had gone too far with my
teasing after all. “I wasn’t trying to say—”
I started.
    “There was a time in my life when
I didn’t have any food at all,” he said, so softly that
for a second I thought I had imagined it. “I feel…safer,
knowing I have something stashed away. Just in case.”
    What the hell? Hunter Knox had grown up
the pampered scion of a wealthy family—hadn’t he?
    I realized the assumptions I had been
making, and I suddenly felt very small.
    “I’m sorry,” I said
quietly.
    He turned again, giving me a gentle
smile. “It’s all right.”
    He took my hand then, and my breath
caught in my throat.
    “I’d better guide you the
rest of the way,” he said. “It gets pretty cramped from
here on out.”
    He tugged gently on my hand, and led me
down a narrow hallway, through a gap in the walls of stacked boxes
emitting the soothing smells of chamomile and old cloth. He shifted
so that I led, his warm hands on my shoulders steering me ably
through the dark.
    Such warm hands. Their heat radiated
through my shirt, and I felt his breath ghosting over my ear, as if
any second now he might lean down and—
    “We import the tea from
Singapore,” he murmured.
    “Oh,” I whispered,
shivering involuntarily. It was hard to think of anything else to say
with my heart pounding so hard. Was I imagining the way his fingers
tightened slightly on my shoulders? Was that a slight caress as his
finger swept downward an inch towards my collarbone, rustling my
blouse, or was I daydreaming?
    Probably. I was definitely probably
reading too much into it. I tried to even out my breathing, hoped he
couldn’t feel me tremble under his gentle touch. I resolved to
banish all thoughts of that night we’d spent together in my
hotel room and focus on the business at hand, but the low throb
pulsing between my legs was undeniable.
    “Stop.” And his arm
encircled my waist, sending a jolt through me as I stumbled to a
halt, his strong body pressing up against mine, there in the
half-darkness where no one knew we were, where no one would see if he
were to pull me even closer, if he were to bend his lips to my neck,
if his hands were to wander from my waist to my breasts or down my
thighs—
    He pulled away.
    “It’s right here.”
    It took several embarrassingly long
seconds for me to realize that he was talking about his secret snack
hoard.
    I watched, squinting through the
dimness, as he jimmied away the back of a cabinet to reveal a small
tin, just starting to rust at the edges. Watching him, the careful
care he took, the way his eyes lit as he picked it up, I was filled
with an overwhelming gratitude for the trust he was showing me.
    Because this was private. This was a
secret. This was something very nearly sacred to him, I could see
that in his eyes, and he was sharing it with me.
    And I had no idea what I could have
done to deserve that honor.
    He opened the lid and looked at me
almost shyly, his hair falling into his eyes. “It’s not
much…”
    I took his hand. His hands were so
large and capable; why did I feel so much like I wanted to take care
of him in this moment? He didn’t need anyone to take care of
him. But I wanted to. “It’s perfect.”
    A flash of white in the shadows as he
smiled. “You haven’t even looked.”
    We were both whispering. I wasn’t
sure why; the house was so big that we might as well have been in
another county as far as the staff were concerned. But the